Summer Jobs
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Aunt Cass breaks her leg in an unfortunate household incident centered around an ill-placed hairy baby. With its owner out for the count, who's going to run The Lucky Cat Café? Answer: five amateur but well-meaning and enthusiastic students off SFIT for summer break with nothing better to do but to run a bakery. Baking is science, right?
1. Cracked Tibia

**_Soli Deo Gloria_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Big Hero 6. Though I own this attempt at a humorous, light-hearted, multi-chapter story. :3**

Aunt Cass, as usual, felt frazzled and stressed-out; it was a busy Saturday at the Lucky Cat Café, and she was simultaneously rolling out a huge batch of dough for cinnamon rolls, running the register, and noticing a pile of spilled cinnamon Mochi pushed onto the floor. "Mochi!" she cried. She threw her floury hands up and scowled at the cat. Mochi dropped a gaze at the mess, meowed innocently, and began to lick his paws.

Aunt Cass sighed at the sight of this fat cat on her counter, prayed that the restaurant inspector would not show up, and suppressed the urge to go binge-eat a few of those freshly-made doughnuts she had in the pastry display case.

"Come on, Cass, you've got this." She carefully tripped over her messy kitchen floor, ignored the pot of boiling water overflowing onto the industrial stove, and sighed when she heard a customer saying, "Hey, lady, you're out of decaf over here!"

"What is the point of decaf coffee? IT'S GOT NO CAFFEINE, SO WHAT'S THE POINT OF DRINKING IT?!" Aunt Cass hissed under her breath. She swallowed and called back, "A fresh pot will be out in a minute, sir." She opened the door that led up into the apartment and pointed into the stairway. "Out, Mochi. I have work to do."

Mochi looked at her wonderingly, but didn't move.

"Mochi, please!" Aunt Cass groaned. She sighed and cast a quick eye out into the dining room. Some of the booths and tiny tables were occupied; most of the customers were college students, hipsters, or regular locals. A couple of kids were taking their sweet time examining the vast arrays of delicate pastries under the glass; hopefully they would keep taking forever. Aunt Cass made the executive decision to go upstairs. "Come on, Mochi. I'm getting you food. _Then_ maybe you'll stay upstairs."

Mochi was unmoved by her act as she grunted her way up the stairs. "Hiro's got the _whole_ summer to just hang out in his room and not babysit the cat." She grumbled to herself as she scooped dry food into Mochi's monogrammed bowl and opened a can of salmon-esque wet food to put over top. "Hiro!" she called. "Hiro, can you _please_ make sure Mochi doesn't come into the café's kitchen? When he sits on the counter, he breaks about seven different health codes."

Her lanky nephew came hurrying out of his room. "Were you calling me, Aunt Cass?" he wondered.

Aunt Cass sighed and wondered if he'd heard a single word she said. She waved the can opener at him, then at the bottom of the stairway. "Make sure Mochi doesn't go downstairs, _please_."

"Um, okay." Hiro watched his aunt with a worried look as she started descending the stairs. "Aunt Cass, do you need any help?"

Aunt Cass looked up and ran a hand through her hair, which was lacking an important hairnet. She needed to put one on. Right. "I'm okay. Just. . . I'll keep doing what I do!"

Hiro wasn't reassured; he looked at up at Baymax, who'd joined him to see what the yelling was about, then at the stairs. "Are you sure?" Hiro asked her, concerned.

"I'm fine! I gotta go make coffee! Mochi, come up here! Mochi!" Aunt Cass called from the middle of the stairs.

Hiro sighed.

Her calling brought the cat to her, all right, but what she hadn't realized was that he'd followed her up the stairs the first time; now he came descending the stairs after her, and he just decided to step on her feet as she was turning. Aunt Cass tripped over him and shrieked as she tumbled to the bottom of the stairs. Mochi screeched, his tail bristled, and he scrambled up the stairs to hide in a safe room.

Hiro and Baymax were two steps closer to Hiro's room when they heard Aunt Cass shriek; Hiro almost stepped on a speeding Mochi in his hurrying to get to his aunt. "Aunt Cass! Are you all right?" Hiro wanted to know, his young face crossed with concern as he reached her side.

Aunt Cass weakly groaned as she attempted to sit up. "Kind of. My back's okay." Then she moved her left leg and hissed. "Nope, not all the way okay. My leg! OW!"

"It's going to be okay. Baymax is gonna fix it. Baymax!" Hiro called hurriedly. "Come down here! Hurry!"

Baymax came slowly down the stairs; his knees had no joints, so that made life slightly hard for him. When he finally joined Aunt Cass and Hiro, he quickly scanned Aunt Cass and said, "Body scan completed. Diagnosis: A crack in the left tibia."

"Non-medical speak, please, Baymax," Hiro said flatly.

"Aunt Cass has a broken leg." Out of one of Baymax's fingers came three little pills. "Here are some pain relievers. Hiro, if you could assist Aunt Cass to her feet, I will be able to pick her up and take her to the hospital."

"Um, wouldn't it be easier to just call an ambulance?" Aunt Cass asked weakly.

"The whole point of Baymax is for him to be a healthcare companion, to help _you_. He's got this, Aunt Cass. He'll take care of you. Let us take care of you," Hiro pleaded.

Aunt Cass sighed. She looked into the faces of her growing boy and his soft robot and thought of the bakery and Mochi and closed her eyes, overwhelmed. "First, close up shop, Hiro. _Then_ we'll go to the ER."

* * *

Fred flopped next to Aunt Cass on the living room couch wayyyyy too roughly for her taste. She grimaced and put her hand on her cast. Her leg was propped up on the coffee table to elevate it. It looked big and thick and stiff.

"Aunt Cass got a cast! You look like you're part robot or something now!" Fred told her.

Aunt Cass smiled weakly. "That's one way of looking at it."

Honey gave Aunt Cass a cup of green tea and smiled. "You're on the road to recovery. It's only for six to eight weeks."

"Six to eight weeks." Aunt Cass looked at her leg and groaned. "Oh, who am I FOOLING? I can't run the café like this! Imagine me, day in and day out, hobbling around! No, I can't do it!" She groaned. "Wasabi, hand me that doughnut."

Wasabi, with distaste, passed the plate of doughnuts and crumbs around. Aunt Cass took the biggest and got powdered sugar all over her face as she chewed. Fred took five and got powdered sugar all over his shirt. Wasabi looked away, physically pained.

"You can't keep the bakery closed for that amount of time. You've got bills to pay," Gogo said matter-of-factly from where she stood, looking thoughtful.

"I know," Aunt Cass sighed. "And we're not going to open tomorrow unless I can find a new employee who can start bright tomorrow morning. And by tomorrow morning, I mean at four AM." She groaned and stuffed the rest of the doughnut into her mouth. "Thatsnothappening," she said around it.

"You don't have ANY other employees besides yourself?" Gogo said, kinda surprised.

Aunt Cass shook her head, mouth still stuffed with doughnut. Hiro said from his chair, "Tadashi used to work now and then at the café during the summer. The most I can do on my own is run the register and fry doughnuts."

"My special skills include being able to correctly estimate the amount of calories, fat, carbs, sugar, and protein in any food item with a simple scan," Baymax piped up.

"Brilliant." Gogo sighed. "If we're all going to team up to run this bakery, we're going to need all the help we can get."

Aunt Cass almost choked on her doughnut; everyone else looked, stunned, at Gogo.

"Us? Running a bakery? Gogo, did you hit your head before you came over here?" Wasabi wanted to know.

"Why not? It's obvious Cass can't do it. Hiro can't do it alone. It's summer. If Cass doesn't mind, I think we just found jobs to keep us occupied," Gogo said.

Aunt Cass slumped even more.

Honey quickly jumped up, clapping her hands. "This is a great idea, Gogo! Baking's nothing but chemistry anyway! I love chemistry!" She turned to Wasabi and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all about precision and even measurements." He looked a little turned around at that. Then she said to Fred, "You could be the waiter!"

"I _have_ been working on my French accent, _oui, oui_ ," Fred said, straightening his shirt and feeling proud as he straightened up. A doughnut fell from where it'd been sitting on his chest onto the floor.

Honey put a hand on Hiro's shoulder and smiled. "We could totally help you." Then to Aunt Cass, she asked, "If you say it's okay, of course."

All eyes looked at Aunt Cass; she gulped down the last of her doughnut and said, trying to sound cheerful, "Well, I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" The kids all cheered and Baymax said, "Hooray!"

It was neither the worst choice or the best choice; still, Aunt Cass hoped that her choice to have her nephew, his robot, and his four best friends run her café wouldn't end up running her café into the ground that summer.

 **So today (er, yesterday, depending on your time in your part of the world—JULY 31ST, 2016) marks five years since I first made my fanfiction account. I have spent _so many hours_ on this site, you guys. I've written _hundreds of thousands of words_. _So_ _many_ stories _._ And I hope I don't ever stop. :)**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Closing Night (and Opening Day)

**_Soli Deo gloria_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Big Hero 6.**

 **Yes, it's been a while. But that's besides the point. Behold, chapter 2!**

"I'm just going to come out and say it—this is the best idea we've ever had!" Fred exclaimed as he donned an apron.

Gogo wrinkled her nose as she watched him tie the apron strings somehow into a bow across his chest. "It's probably one of _yours_ , at least," she said.

"Guys, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," Hiro said, turning The Lucky Cat Café's 'Open' sign to its 'Closed' counterpart.

"We'll try our best, and that's all we can promise, but really, anything for you, Hiro," Wasabi said. His apron tied neatly around his waist, he pulled a cloudy white hairnet over his kinky hair.

"Don't forget the beard guard," Gogo pointed out casually.

"Wait, a _what_?" Fred wanted to know.

Wasabi's hands tugged on the said beard guard over his impeccably well-kept facial hair. "As if _I_ would forget," he said to Gogo.

"A beard guard," Honey explained, "it's like, a hairnet for beards."

"It makes sense that Fred wouldn't know what one is, then," Gogo said sarcastically.

"Whoa, that's _so_ cool! I'm totally gonna grow a beard just so I too can partake in this cool fashion craze," Fred exclaimed.

Gogo sighed. "It's not a fashion craze. It's a food safety issue."

"All right, guys," Hiro said, rubbing his hands together. He faced his group of friends with a little worry and a little feeling of authority. While he had as equal an intelligent, innovative mind as the rest of them, he still felt a little too young to be ordering everyone around as the leader of the pack. But this situation felt like it was begging him to lead it. Aunt Cass was channel-flipping through old reruns and making great headway through the cookie jar at this very moment. They needed to seize the moment or the café would be ruined. Aunt Cass had built a solid reputation and had a loyal clientele. Just because she wasn't the one running the show didn't mean that the café should be anything other than what it always was.

Hiro knew he needed to run the business—if there was going to be any consistency, it would be because he and Aunt Cass shared blood. If she could do this, so could he.

"So I seem to be remembering a certain phrase Aunt Cass said—somebody needs to be here at four AM to _bake_?" Fred asked incredulously. "Like, how long does it take for your butler to make your breakfast?"

Everyone's eyes swiveled around to settle on Fred. "You realize your _cook_ has to wake up early to make stuff? That not everything comes out of a box?" Gogo finally said.

"Everything baked comes from a box or is ready made from a bakery or café, Gogo. _Everyone_ knows that," Fred pshawed.

Honey put a gentle hand on Fred's arm. "Freddy, we _are_ a café."

It donned on Fred pretty quick after that. "Ohhhh. So we're the ones who have to make all that stuff?" Simultaneous nods circled around the group. "Oh, okay. Well, great—let's do this! Let's bake!"

"We're not baking right now," Hiro explained.

Fred's enthusiasm somehow died just a little.

"Someone's going to come here at bake at four AM." Honey shrugged. "I volunteer!"

"Thanks, Honey!" Hiro said, relieved that he didn't have to coerce someone into taking the unwanted graveyard shift.

"Oh, I'm so excited! Just point me in the way of Aunt Cass's recipes. I can't wait to see her leavening ratios and her rising and baking times!" Honey said giddily.

Hiro took a running start before leaping over the pastry case over onto the other side of the counter. He rifled through the stray paper littering a drawer next to the till. He handed the consolidated mess to Honey and said, "Have at it."

Honey, clutching the messy stack in both hands like Hiro had instead dropped a precious gem into her cupped hands, squealed in excitement as she dumped them on the nearest dining room table and began to rifle through them.

"If she's doing all the baking, what's the rest of our jobs?" Wasabi wanted to know. "Personally, I can get us an easy one-hundred from the health inspector. Now," he swiped a gloved finger on a floury counter, "I'm not saying your aunt has a dirty café by any means, but I can make this place like WOW if you want." He inspected the floury crumbs rubbed between his fingers and immediately dove for a wet rag and spray bottle.

"Okay, if that's what you want," Hiro said hesitantly. Wasabi barely heard him as he started wiping down surfaces with as much enthusiasm as a kid in a candy store.

Gogo blew a gum bubble and raised her hand. "I'm manage the till and counter and assemble sandwiches and stuff," she said.

A light bulb lit over Fred's head. "Oh! Oh!" he squealed, "I'll be a waiter! I can _totally_ imitate Heathcliff." He grabbed a stray circular metal tray. He tucked a cloth napkin into his shirt at his clavicle and straightening his back, walked over to Honey and offered his tray. "Croissant, madame?"

"Oh Fred, that's actual French! Good job!" Honey said encouragingly.

Hiro nodded to himself. "That's everyone," he said. He grew determined. "That just leaves me." He spied Baymax coming slowly down the tight stairs (he'd gone to check on Aunt Cass); the robot stopped to stare at Mochi, who, sprawling, slept at the foot of the stairs. Seeing as he was the cause of their problems, Baymax was smart enough to avoid a similar repetition of late disastrous events. "Baymax and I will do deliveries," he said, pointing at his best friend. "I also have the key. I'll be the extra set of hands for everyone."

"Everyone has a job then!" Honey said.

"All right. Let's do this! Let's do our jobs!" Fred said. "Whoa," he said, realizing, "this is the first time I've ever had a job."

"You mean you never had a job through high school to support your projects? Oh yeah, rich parents," Gogo said sarcastically.

"Wow. That was harsh. Brutal, man," Fred said. He brightened a little and approaching Gogo said, "Don't worry. I'm going to make it up to everyone. Not only am I _not_ going to be the financial backer of this particular group project, but I am going to contribute as much as anyone else to make this café run!"

"Nobody's doubting your abilities, Fred," Hiro said, even as he gave Gogo a look. She shrugged and blew another big pink bubble. "I know you're going to do your best to help out."

Fred pointed a finger at Hiro. "He's got me!"

"Okay, can we get back to performing the café's closing duties?" Wasabi asked anxiously.

Honey sat sidewise on her chair as she said, "Oh, are you going to try your homemade uber-soluble concentrated dish soap?"

Wasabi could barely contain his excitement. "Is that even a legit question?" he said, even as he produced a beaker full of fluorescent green solution resembling syrup. He poured it onto his fine mesh recyclable sponge (another Wasabi innovation) and dove into the hot water after dishes.

"Okay, um, let's do this," Hiro said. His friends were already diving into their tasks. Gogo casually leaned against the counter as she hand-counted the till at the speed of lightning and punched all her numbers rapid-fire into her phone's calculator app. Fred whooped and piled precarious, worrisome piles of dishes onto his single tray. He skipped over Honey's feet as she sat in her chair, her laser-focus reading and memorizing recipes even as she scribbled notes in her digital notebook. She took pictures of the recipes with her phone and translated them into a readable digital writing document.

Hiro and Baymax contributed the best they could, tag-teaming to wrap up that day's pastries and tuck them into the fridges. Wasabi's cleaning was like a well-coordinated dance—they only did bits and pieces, while mostly staying out of his way. The tables were wiped down, the dining room floor mopped, the windows cleaned, every surface made spotless.

The old clock tick-tocked past ten as Wasabi discarded his rubber gloves, Honey shuffled the recipes into their drawer, her eyes alight with new information, Gogo put the cash deposit in an envelope and the till back into its drawer, and Fred sharpened the last of three hundred pencils for tomorrow's shift. "Are you really going to need all those pencils, Freddy?" Honey wondered.

Fred stuck up a finger; his tone was serious: "A waiter can never be too prepared, Honey. Besides, who knows how many customers we're gonna get tomorrow?"

Hiro breathed in deep and, rubbing his hands nervously together, stepped into the spotlight. "Guys, thanks for pitching in. It's gonna be a hard next few weeks, but I believe we can do it, if we work together."

Honey put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We're here for you, Hiro. And I'll be here at four AM to make pastries."

"I'll be here at seven to get the coffee started and all the napkins folded," Wasabi volunteered.

"We don't fold our napkins, Sabi," Hiro said.

Wasabi waved a dismissive hand at him. "You're about to. Don't worry; I got you, Hiro."

"I'll be here at seven-forty-five to open the register and start the lunch prep," Gogo said.

"I'll be here at five minutes _before_ seven-forty-five to get myself into the right mindset to be a waiter," Fred said determinedly.

Gogo ignored his one-upping and Hiro said, "Great! Baymax and I are gonna go make copies of Aunt Cass's key in the garage."

"Hiro, you need to get some sleep! Just leave the spare key under the mat and I'll get copies made after I make all the recipes," Honey told him.

"Oh, okay," Hiro said.

"It is well-advised for all employees to get sufficient rest for the workday," Baymax said. "I will also check on Aunt Cass before I shut down for the night."

"We're college students, Baymax," Gogo said. "Believe me, we know how to work after just a pretense of sleep."

* * *

While everyone had agreed with Gogo the night before (they didn't need sleep—they were invincible!), none of them could keep their eyes open for long. By five the next afternoon, the four-of-five college students were dropping like flies.

"Here . . . are . . . everyone's . . . keys . . ." Honey said, her long legs barely able to make strides enough to make it to the front counter. Her hand gently slammed the keys onto the smooth surfaace, her cheek hitting the counter almost instantaneously.

Wasabi stifled a yawn as he rubbed his towel along a clean white dish. "Thanks, Honey," he yawned.

Gogo peered up from the register she was using as a life support and said, "You've been drying that dish for twenty minutes, Sabi. I'm sure it's dry."

Hiro tripped down the stairs, fresh from a visit to Aunt Cass. "Aunt Cass is doing okay," he said sleepily. "She's calming herself with a piece of pear pie. But she's worried we can't handle the schedule of the place."

"Handle?! Please!" Fred said, zooming up to the counter. Energy radiated from him like he was a fresh battery. "We have this thing _totally_ under control!"

Gogo's head tilted up slightly. "How many cups of coffee have you had?" she murmured.

"Six, plus five energy shots! Whoa, technology these days—I've never had so much energy in my life!" Fred said. He was like a kid on too much sugar. Actually bouncing off the walls wasn't that far away a possibility.

"Freddy, dear, you're going to crash so hard later," Honey murmured, already halfway to dreamland.

Gogo raised an eyebrow. "Are you wearing skates?"

"Yes! They're not all cool and modern like yours, but they allow me to zip around the dining room like, ten times faster!" Fred explained enthusiastically.

"So that's how you've crashed into three different tables this morning," Gogo pointed out.

"How are we going to do this? Day in and day out? Up all night like werewolves, crawling through the day like zombies—" Wasabi said, his voice picking up with hysteria.

"Drinking blood like vampires!" Fred added.

Wasabi gave him an incredulous look. "Unless your energy shots are called Vampire's Blood, we're not doing that," Wasabi said. Then his voice rose with panic. "Add being superheroes on top of that—but what if Aunt Cass doesn't get better for a while? What if she's not better before school comes back? What if we have to run a café _and_ save San Fransokyo _while_ furthering our education?!" Wasabi almost dissolved into an anxiety attack.

Baymax approached him. "Your blood pressure is rising fast. Your anxiety levels and heart rate have risen. Would you like a paper bag to use as a calming device?"

"Yes, yes I would!" Wasabi snatched the bag Baymax brought forth from his chest and heaved ho into it.

"Guys, I won't let it come to that," Hiro said. "If Aunt Cass doesn't get better, _I_ will drop out of school to take care of everything until she gets better. Since she's not the breadwinner right now and Ta—Tadashi's not here to be the man of the house," and Hiro looked for the first time in a while just fourteen-years-old as he threw back his scrawny shoulders, "then I'll be both."

This woke up everyone enough to protest. "No, Hiro! You can't drop out of school!" Honey said.

"If this is gonna happen, we're going to do it as a team. No dropping us again," Gogo said sternly.

Wasabi put a reassuring hand on Hiro's shoulder. "We're staying by your side, man, no matter what. We'll get through this together, as a team."

Gogo and Honey heaved themselves up from the counter to stand by Hiro's side. "A team."

Fred put a hand into the center they encircled. "All together, guys," he said. Hiro smiled and topped all the larger hands with his skinny kid one. "One, two, three—team!"

The opening bell to The Lucky Cat Café rung: the dinner rush cometh. "All right guys," Fred said, tightening up his apron strings as everyone groaned and went back to their stations, "let's feed these people some dinner."

 **Thanks for reading! Review?**


	3. Yama's Restaurant Supplies

_**Soli Deo gloria**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Big Hero 6. BTW I haven't watched any of the BH6 TV series so I'm just running with what I know is movie-canon.**

"This is bad, this is bad, this is super duper uber _supremely_ bad!" Wasabi said, thirty seconds of harsh, inconsistent breathing away from a full-blown anxiety attack.

"I know, but I can fix this! I can! Just, let me think!" Hiro's hand flew to his forehead, his brain already overwhelmed with gears turning and explosions. Crafting a homemade, helpful-to-mankind invention would be easier than this; _that_ he could handle.

Baymax stood calmly on the loading dock's ramp. He blinked and looked up at Hiro and Wasabi. "Is he never coming back?" Baymax wondered.

"I really, _really_ don't think so, Baymax!" Wasabi said as he wrung his hands. "Ach, Hiro! Why do you have to do illegal things?!"

"Hey, he did illegal things, too!" Hiro said, quick on the defensive.

"This is bad—this is gonna send ramifications for _years_ to come on your aunt! We need to fix this before she realizes what you did!" Wasabi said between chatting teeth.

"I know! I know! Sabi, _Sabi_!" Hiro reached his skinny arms up and put all his strength into his hands holding down Wasabi's broad shoulders. It was a bit of a pathetic effort, but it was the thought that counted. Wasabi managed to stop looking like he was gonna pass out at the snap of his fingers and Hiro said in a calming voice, "We're gonna fix this. It just requires some thought. That's all."

Honey, Fred, and Gogo appeared in the café's back door, their heads piled on top of each other. "What's going on out here? Is somebody hurt? We thought we heard a wounded animal."

"Who we can now easily identify as Sabi, so that's a relief, and nothing new," Gogo said, cocking her already cocked head.

"Guys, where's the delivery man? We're low on napkins! How can I be a waiter who can lift his head high when every customer asks me where are the napkins?" Fred said. He stopped being a floating head along the doorway as his lanky legs took him down the loading dock. There was certainly a lack of a delivery van, delivery boxes, and a delivery man. "Um, guys, did you like, scare off the delivery man or something?" Fred wondered.

"I wouldn't say _we_ scared him off," Wasabi said, giving Hiro a pointed glare.

Hiro rubbed his arm uneasily. "Um, so it turns out I once shared jail with our delivery man."

"WHAT?!" Honey shrieked.

"Whoa! Totally wicked! Old nemeses meet again!" Fred said in awe. He then frowned. "Nemeses? Nemesises? Nesmi?"

"Wow," Gogo said flatly. Her word didn't mean it, but she was impressed.

"How? When? Why? What?" Honey said, flustered even as she walked over to Hiro's side, eager to hear exact details.

"So as you all know," Hiro said, uneasily pocketing his hands and keeping his eyes down, "I used to participate in bot fighting. Totally wasn't supposed to, totally did. They were _insane_. And, um, illegal. Well, the betting part was, the fighting part wasn't. My last (and technically first) actual fight was against the best of the best, Yama. He's this, um, crime boss. The big _kahuna_. He beat me, I bet more money, I beat him. He sent his goonies after me, Tadashi saved me, but then we all ended up in jail. Aunt Cass busted us out."

"Are you actually saying that Aunt Cass does business with your old jail mate?" Fred said.

"Did she not like, recognize him or something?" Gogo wondered.

"Aunt Cass didn't see anyone else in that jail but me and Tadashi. She was _really_ upset with us that night," Hiro admitted.

"Wait, what happened out here, then?" Honey said. Her arms folded over her chest, her eyes wondering about what had just happened.

"Dude pulls up and I'm waving him up to the loading dock like some idiot just doing his job," Wasabi launched. "He gets out, comes to the end to open the trunk. I greet him; he looks down and sees Hiro." Wasabi pointed a hand at Hiro, who smiled weakly and waved his hand. "Kid does exactly that and crime boss man turns a whole new shade of putrid puce. Starts shouting in Japanese—honestly, I think he was trying to schedule a duel to the death with Hiro."

"Ah, even if he did, I would've beat him," Hiro said easily, waving his hand dismissively. "I already beat his one bot." He nodded his head to Baymax standing behind him, innocent and calm as a clueless child. "Imagine how much more humiliating the defeat will be with Baymax."

"Hiro, you are _totally_ not going to fight this guy," Wasabi said sternly.

"Why not? I'm a hero and _he's_ a criminal. It'd _actually_ make sense this time to fight him," Hiro argued.

"Um, how about because we are supposed to be _running_ this café and now we have no supplies because of your little 'tiff' with your aunt's deliveryman!" Wasabi half-shouted, again working himself up into a good hysterical panic. He met the eyes of the other college students and said, "Oh yeah, once he stopped shouting in Japanese, he hightailed it back into his van and skedaddled out of here. He's probably halfway to the Golden Gate bridge right now."

"But my napkins—!" Fred mourned. Everyone gave him an annoyed look ( _priorities_ , Fred); he (for once) wisely declined to continue down that vein of conversation. Instead he said, throwing his fist across his chest, "Darn! No flour or sugar or whatever else ingredients go into cookies and stuff!"

"So this isn't good," Honey said. "I'm down to two days' worth of baking powder and next to no flour. I _need_ ingredients for tomorrow's baked goods!"

"Someone needs to go grocery shopping," Gogo said drily.

"We also need to secure a new regular deliveryman who can resume the regular route who doesn't, you know, have a criminal past or any past with Hiro," Wasabi pointed out sarcastically.

"Preferably," Gogo added unhelpfully.

"All right," Hiro said, taking the spotlight again. "It's my fault the deliveryman's gone, so I'll go after him. I think between Baymax and me, we can convince him to come back."

Gogo snapped a bubble while appraising Hiro with folded arms. "Just how are you gonna do that?"

Hiro shrugged. "Offer a rematch."

Wasabi took a step forward. "We are _so_ not doing that."

Gogo, Fred, and Honey shared a look. It included shrugged shoulders and tilted nods. "That might work, actually," Honey said.

"WHAT?! You want Hiro to go after the guy who probably no doubt wants revenge on him now?!" Wasabi said.

"When was the last time we ran away from danger?" Gogo asked. "We don't run away. We go on the offensive _first_." She gave Wasabi her evil eye. "You scared or something?"

"I feel like I'm being the practical one, but obviously I'm the only one who thinks that," Wasabi said. He groaned and wiped his face with his big hand. "Okay. Sure. Let's send Hiro after the deliveryman to offer a rematch to get back his stolen honor and get his revenge."

"Hey, I never said anything about letting him win just so he'd come back to business with us," Hiro said defensively. "His honor was lost 'cause _he_ lost, end of story. I was thinking more of offering a rematch with new bets. I win, he continues delivering like normal. I lose, he gets Baymax."

Now everyone (not just Wasabi) appeared mortified and shocked. "Hiro! That's insane!" Wasabi groaned.

"You could lose Baymax!" Honey said.

"We are _not_ doing that!" Gogo straight up told him.

"Crazy odds—the deepest loss or the greatest reward," Fred contemplated. He put a hand on Hiro's shoulder. "This is an ultimatum deal, and I fully support you in this."

"No, Freddy, we're _not_ ," Gogo said, forcing the two apart. She gave Fred a look before putting both hands on Hiro's shoulder and saying sternly, "You can't do this. Baymax is your connection to Tadashi. You _cannot_ bet the last thing your brother worked on before he died."

"I'm _not_ going to lose, Gogo," Hiro said, stepping out of her hands. He looked hurt. "I would never bet Baymax unless I was one-hundred percent certain he'd win."

Gogo was silent. She stood up and threw up her hands and walked away, shaking her head as she muttered to herself.

"Hey, so two questions of concern," Honey said, stepping into the ring. "First of all, isn't it illegal to bet on bot fights?"

"Yeah, so?" Hiro said.

"So you, Hiro the hero, are stooping down to criminal activity to negotiate with criminals?" Honey asked plainly, but uneasily.

"It's the only way to get with him. I didn't even know this crime boss had a legitimate business until ten minutes ago. You don't think he's gonna respond to actual business negotiations, like contracts and raised pay or something like that, do you?" Hiro said. "He understands betting, so all I'm doing is speaking his language. That's it!"

"It's a dangerous language," Honey warned him with worry in her voice.

"The only one he understands!" Hiro argued, flinging his arms out in front of him, pleading.

"Fine, this _one_ time. But you have to talk people with you!" Honey said, flinging her own arms out to encompass herself, Wasabi, Gogo, and Fred. "You can't go this alone!"

"I'll play the part of Tadashi where I come to rescue when things go wrong," Wasabi said.

Gogo raised a hand. "I'll go. I'm faster than Wasabi when it comes to saving your butt from a negotiation gone wrong."

Wasabi scoffed at Gogo. "Is that a sly remark about my driving abilities?"

Gogo cocked her head. She didn't answer with words, but with her silence.

Fred raised his hand. "Oh! I wanna go! I love bot-fighting! Besides, I don't have any napkins yet, so I can avoid those customers for as long as I can."

Honey waved a hand. "Perfect. Hiro, you're taking Fred and Gogo besides Baymax to get Yama back as our deliveryman."

"All right. Sounds like a plan," Hiro said, folding his arms over his chest. "Andddddd, your second reason?"

"Wasn't Baymax's fighting personality chip destroyed when the rest of his body disappeared into the space void?" Honey wondered.

This aroused some worries and concerns from the rest of the group who hadn't thought of this, but Hiro waved a hand. "I still have all the files on my computer, besides a thumbdrive. All I need to do is download them onto another personality chip."

"And you won't go completely psycho and revenge-bent with this personality chip this time?" Honey asked him seriously. Normally Honey was bright and cheerful, but she was the one who plugged Baymax's healthcare chip back into him before he shot the fatal arm at Callaghan. She (along with the rest) never wanted to go through that again.

Hiro _was_ serious when he said, "I won't. I promise. His fighting chip with live with his healthcare chip. It'll work with him, actually. It'll only be used to protect _us_ , which is protecting our health, which is keeping us healthy, which is his primary purpose. I promise I won't abuse his power again, _ever_."

Honey met eyes with Wasabi, Fred, and Gogo. They all came to silent but collective agreement. Nods exchanged, Honey turned back to Hiro and said, "Then I have no objections. Bring me back my leavening agents."

Hiro saluted her casually. "Will do."

"All right, let's go. Time's wastin'—let's go," Gogo said, ready to move on from all this pussyfooting.

"So—just want to put this out there—we're _not_ gonna try to find a deliveryman with a clean background check and instead are _going after_ the local crime boss who hates us and might win Baymax?" Wasabi ventured.

Everyone turned to look at him. Wasabi put his hands up in innocence. "Just thought I'd be the voice of reason. Please, continue with this seemingly contradictory plan."

"Sabi, I can't have things go wrong for Aunt Cass. We need to run things like normal. This is her normal deliveryman. We lose him, we start losing other things. Customers, certain items off the menu. We _need_ to have the same Lucky Cat Café for her to come back to," Hiro urged him.

Wasabi thought about her tripping over stupid Mochi earning her a broken leg and muttered to himself as he followed the rest back into the café, "Not so lucky, turns out."

* * *

Fred pouted as he and Gogo followed Baymax and Hiro to the trolley. "Whatever happened to having a cool winged robot to use as personal transportation? Who rides on public transit anymore?"

"Fred, we went over this," Gogo reminded him as they stepped onto the open-air carriage and put up their payment, "Baymax has to wear his costume to fly—costume means that Yama will know he's a part of Big Hero Six, ergo that _we_ are Big Hero Six."

"I know protecting our alter egos are super important and stuff, but the trolley? Really? It would take two seconds to call up the family chopper," Fred said as they all leaned against the carriage railing.

"And have Yama have a personal vendetta against the Frederickson family if Hiro loses?" Gogo pointed out, annoyed.

"Baymax is _not_ gonna lose," Hiro reminded her, a little annoyed.

"You know what I mean; there's no point in giving Yama any more to work with than what we're already giving him," Gogo said. She sighed as she swept her palm in front of them. "We get in, get our normal delivery route back, get out. No need to involve us being superheroes at all, Freddy."

Fred grumbled as he leaned his head onto his folded arms. "Fred wants to wear his superhero costume, though," he mumbled to himself.

The trolley stopped three blocks away from the last known bot-fighting spot Hiro knew of. "There's no bot-fighting during the day, or else I'd just check the forum to see when the next fight's being held," Hiro explained.

"Is this like a pop-up fight or something? Do they not always have fights in the same spot?" Gogo wondered, stepping into a world she knew nothing of.

"No, or the police would just show up there every time. They move it around, posting their next secret spots on underground websites, usually in code," Fred said ominously.

Gogo and Hiro stared at him. "How did you know that?" Hiro wondered.

Fred waved a dismissive hand and said cheerfully, "You left your browser up the last time we were in your room. By the way, you need to update your computer. You've been rescheduling its updates for _months_ now."

"I know! It always just asks when I'm busy doing something, so I put it off, and when I'm done, I've completely forgotten about it and just never get around to it," Hiro explained.

"Happens to the best of us, little buddy," Fred said.

Gogo raised a finger to her lips as they exited a narrow alley into the gutter-filled back-ends of a row of downtown strip mall. "You sure this is the correct spot, Hiro?" Gogo wondered.

"It's our last link to him," Hiro said.

"Maybe we should've just asked Aunt Cass for the number of her deliveryman—get on the phone with him directly—" but Gogo's logical plan was immediately shushed by the guys, making her roll her eyes.

"Aunt Cass _can't_ know; I'll be grounded and she'll be disappointed!" Hiro said. "I'm tired of making Aunt Cass disappointed."

"Okay, whatever! Let's just locate this guy and get this over with!" Gogo said. She then stopped at the loading dock to one of the shops. Written across the back door in both Japanese and English was 'Little Yama's Restaurant Supplies'. "That's convenient," Gogo said, folding her arms and taking a step back to appraise the place. Fred stuck his big honker against the back door's little window and said, "Ha, rookie mistake—using your _actual_ name during bot-fighting? Unbelieveable! Amateur!"

"Yeah, so, I did that too, so," Hiro said, amused and a little embarrassed.

"See anything, Fred?" Gogo asked.

Fred's eyes peered around in circles around his door-planted nose.

"No, I don't. Man, where is he? Isn't he huge, Hiro? Isn't he so big that he can block the sun and become all you see?" Fred didn't notice his friends grow eerily quiet behind him. He turned back—"Guys—" to see Yama breathing heavily down upon them. "Whoa. Classical. I didn't know trash-talking somebody while they unknowingly snuck up behind you could happen in real life!" Fred extended his hand cheerfully. "Fred Frederickson, at your service."

Yama stared at his outstretched hand and scoffed. Gogo was two seconds from engaging in martial arts (having actual armor or technology by her side be damned) when Hiro waved his hands and said, "Whoa! Mr. Yama!"

" _Little_ Yama!" Yama roared.

Hiro's smile was more scared than cheerfully. " _Little_ Yama, so nice to see you again! I know it's only been twenty minutes _but still_!" Yama was still breathing heavily, like he was working himself up, so Hiro decided cutting to the chase was the best course of action. " _So_ , still kinda need the supplies on your truck and your consistent delivery services. I'm here to offer you a deal—a challenge! Bot fight! I win, you pretend like I don't exist and bring back supplies for the café—I lose, you get to keep Baymax!"Hiro pointed out his big marshmallow-y robot, who waved. "Hello, I am Baymax, Hiro's personal healthcare companion—and best friend."

Yama stared and then his head tilted back with roaring laughter. He almost choked as he heaved, putting his hand to his chest as tears ran down his face. Hiro, Fred, and Gogo were no longer afraid—they were slightly annoyed. "If he only knew what a fighting machine he actually is—" Fred said determinedly, about to strut up to Yama to give him a piece of his mind, but Hiro put a hand to his chest. "Let it go, Fred," he said. He looked between the wheezing Yama and the calm, waiting Baymax and said, "So, do you agree? Fight to the death, my robot versus your robot?"

Yama recovered enough to say. "You lose means your robot gets destroyed means I win a destroyed robot. No deal." He recovered enough to became crimson angry once more. He pointed an accusing finger at Hiro. "You embarrassed me in front of all of my men. You landed us in jail—not to mention the serious injuries I sustained from your little innocent-looking bot!" Yama fumed at him. "You'd have to pay me a _billion_ yen to _ever_ do business with you again!"

Hiro knew this was not gonna work—he had to win over Yama—how do you win over a huge crime boss who hates you? _Find another angle_. Tadashi's voice echoed in his head. Hiro looked around. The place was deserted. "When was the last time there was a bot fight here? Or anywhere, for that matter?" Hiro asked Yama in a calm voice.

Yama seemed subdued by the question. "After we got locked up, no more. The crowds stopped coming, too scared. The other fighters stopped coming, too scared. They took their hobbies and made careers of them." He sneered. "They took their inventions, their miserable bots, to school. They're now nerds in computer labs."

"Ah, ain't that the truth," Hiro said. That was him in a nutshell. He stepped forward and said casually, "You know, if you ever want to just fight someone's bot for fun, I'm always up for it."

Yama eyed him with suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean as in I can create robots with my eyes closed." Hiro tapped his temple. "It's all in here. I have some spare time, now and then. If you ever want a bot-fight night, come down to the café." Fred and Gogo almost interfered (winning back your aunt's criminal supplier was one thing, but hosting illegal activity at your aunt's hard-earned café is another thing altogether), but Hiro raised a finger, "But no betting."

"No betting?" Yama said, not entirely convinced.

"No betting," Hiro said calmly, pocketing his hands. "Just some good ol' fashioned, friendly, deadly bot-fighting."

Yama considered this. He said, "You host bot-fighting and I will bring the supply orders as usual."

"So we have a deal?" Hiro asked, extending his hand for a business-like handshake.

Yama considered before chuckling and encasing Hiro's tiny hand in his enormous one. "Deal," he said, almost knocking Hiro off balance as he shook his hand.

Gogo and Fred were still amazed as they walked beside Hiro back to the trolley, Baymax slowly taking up the rear behind them. "That was . . . amazing," Gogo said. "No fighting whatsoever."

"Wasabi's gonna be _so_ relieved," Fred said, "though a giant robot fight with Baymax as one of the contestants would've been _so cool_!" Gogo threw him a look, so he amended, "But I'm glad it wasn't a fight to the death or anything, and that Baymax is all safe and stuff."

"So am I," Hiro said. While he was a superhero who had a crime-fighting robot, he'd retained a key lesson from his brother. Fighting wasn't always the answer. Fighting was the obvious answer. There was always a different answer, if you just found another angle. Hiro didn't want to be so quick to fight anymore; not if he had to. He talked to people just like Tadashi talked to people, and found it worked just as much for him as it had for him.

He let out a sigh of relief. The café would run as normal and Aunt Cass would never have to worry or even know what happened. "So, what are we telling Aunt Cass we did all afternoon when we get back?"

"That we were helping the café run, obviously," Gogo said.

"And that's not even a lie but the actual truth," Fred said.

 **Thanks for reading! Review?**


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